


milky way

by ladanse



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: First Date, M/M, Underage Drinking, chainsaw still ships it, for a prompt, persephone's alive, still haven't read trk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-20 12:44:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8249579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladanse/pseuds/ladanse
Summary: “This is a date,” he says, testing the word in his mouth. “You brought me on a date, Parrish.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt: 'Could you write Pynch and a first date?'

 

“I’m not sure I can tell you that,” says Persephone, her voice kind, but delicate, like the woman herself. “These sorts of things only mean anything if you do them yourself.”

 

Adam resists the urge to clench his jaw. No violence, no anger, he breathes to himself. He isn’t even quite sure why this is so important to him. Important, he notes wryly, and frustrating.

 

Like Ronan. Figures.

 

 

 

“Me,” says Calla, flatly. “You’re asking me.”

 

“Yes?” says Adam. It comes out a question.

 

“Well, personally, I don’t particularly care for that one, Greywaren or not. As you may have noticed.” Her eyebrows are angry. “Actually, I really think you should - ”

 

Adam leaves in a hurry in the face of her vitriol. (Or is it sex advice? He’s not sure he wants to know. Who knew you could even _do_ that with a tarot card.)

 

 

 

“Well,” says Maura, distracted. “I mean, what do you kids do? Coffee? Restaurant? You could go to Nino’s!”

 

Blue had (viciously) vetoed Nino’s when Adam had suggested it. He shudders at the memory.

 

“I’ve known him too long for that,” he explains, again. “It has to be something that - it has to belong to just the two of us.”

 

Maura pins him with her too-knowing gaze. “Why are you asking me, then?”

 

Adam doesn’t really have an answer.

 

 

 

Chainsaw just squawks at him. He suspects she’s laughing.

 

 

 

Fine, he says to himself, eventually, and does what he should have done from the start. He asks Cabeswater for help, and the trees respond.

 

*********

 

Adam’s been acting weird lately.

 

This, in and of itself, is not a cause for Ronan’s concern; Adam acts weird approximately 75% of the time before finally bursting out with whatever’s eating at him.

 

This time holds a dearth of _bursting_ and more _guilty looks_ and _dashing off to 300 Fox Way_ when he thinks Ronan isn’t watching.

 

(Adam doesn’t seem to realize that Ronan is always looking at him. Some would say his bleached hair and eyes wash him out, but Ronan thinks he is like the sun; though it hurts his eyes when Adam looks back at him, Ronan can’t look away.)

 

It takes three days before he gets a text (he’s using his phone - Gansey would be proud) that tells him to meet Adam at Monmouth. When Ronan gets there, Adam’s hiding something in the trunk of the BMW; he pretends not to notice. They get in the car and drive, deep into Cabeswater, farther than Ronan has been even in his dreams. Adam created this part of the woods, he realizes suddenly. Wished them into existence so Ronan wouldn’t know where they were going.

 

They drive for hours. Adam won’t let him take the wheel even as the sun begins to set. Ronan gives up on his anticipation; he puts in the Hondayota mixtape and Irish ballads and they squabble familiarly over the stereo.

 

Finally Adam stops the car. The clearing is unremarkable except for the view it offers of the stars, and Ronan can feel the trees whispering, welcoming them both.

 

“Are you finally gonna tell me what’s with you, Parrish?” Ronan asks as he throws his long legs out the passenger door. “Or do I have to dream it out?” Both of them know the question is rhetorical, and Adam doesn’t respond, except to tell Ronan to pick a spot.

 

“Pick a spot,” Ronan mutters, incredulous. As if he particularly cares which rock he wants to set his ass down on.

 

(He does care - he wants an unobstructed view of the stars. Adam probably knows this already.)

 

Adam emerges from the BMW’s trunk carrying a basket in one arm and a rough blanket tucked under another. Meticulous - as always - he lays the blanket down, begins unpacking beer cans and sandwiches from the basket. Ronan is so caught up in watching his long, long fingers that it takes Adam lighting two candles and patting the blanket next to him for Ronan to put the pieces together.

 

“This is a date,” he says, testing the word in his mouth. “You brought me on a date, Parrish.”

 

“Well,” says Adam, and the candlelight highlights the red on his cheeks. “Yeah.”

 

“A _picnic_. We’re in a forest, under the stars, having a picnic in the middle of a clearing - ”

 

“Well - ”

 

“With candles. And _beer_.”

 

“It’s not just a forest,” is all Adam can say. “It’s Cabeswater. It made this for me - for _us_. I thought - ”

 

“You are a fucking mess of clichés,” says Ronan. He flops down next to Adam, nearly in his lap, and draws the indignant pout of Adam’s lips to his own.

 

When he draws back, Adam still looks wary. “Okay, then?”

 

“Okay?” asks Ronan. He kisses Adam again and lets his grin grow shit-eating. “Better than a hand-delivered carnation, for sure - ”

 

Adam punches him, and he can’t stifle his hiccupping laughter. “One time, Ronan, Jesus - ”

 

“We could have just made out at Monmouth, you know.”

 

“Well, we could be making out here,” says Adam, eyebrows raised.

 

“Shut up,” says Ronan easily, because he’s right, and kisses him until he smiles. “You may be a mess, but you’re my fucking mess, you know that?”

 

“Now who’s the cliché?” says Adam, but he is grinning bright as the sky above them.

 


End file.
